"Twelve and a half," said the Admiral. "Now, Standish?"
"N.E. this time," remarked that youth philosophically.
The Admiral said nothing, but I saw his choleric blue eyes slide round
in the direction of Miss Buncle's headgear. He turned to Dermott.
"How many, old man?"
"Blob!"
That Dermott should return empty-handed from any kind of chase was so
surprising that we all turned round for the explanation. Dermott was
looking very dejected. This was evidently a blow to his professional
pride.
"Didn't any of that great pack come near you?" asked the Admiral
sympathetically.
"No--don't think so," said Dermott shortly.
I had counted eight birds flying straight over his butt myself, but I
said nothing. I was beginning to comprehend. _Et ego in Arcadia vixi_.
But the obtuse master-mariner persisted.
"How about that brace that flew right down the line? You must have seen
'em coming all the way. You didn't even try a shot at them, man!"